


In the Cold Light of the Morning

by EllenaMckelles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenaMckelles/pseuds/EllenaMckelles
Summary: Harry and Draco wake up in bed together and realize they got hitched the night before. Interesting situations ensue.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I’m ALIVE!! Okay, I’ve been sincerely backed up lately. SINCERELY backed up. Don’t worry, I’m working on things. Albeit, incredibly slowly, but I’m working on things. 2017 is going to be a very interesting year. >__<
> 
> I got the prompt for this from Emily-Fay’s beautiful fanart: http://emily-fay.deviantart.com/art/In-the-Cold-Light-of-Morning-194461088  
> Seriously, go hit up her Patreon – https://www.patreon.com/pussycatscribbles/ 
> 
> Also, this is my gift to you for Valentine’s Day. I do so hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Warning(s): slash, public drunkenness, some coarse language, and some lovely smut.

* * *

 

. **ONE**.

 

Draco rolled over, groaning. His head was pounding and every part of his body ached. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Cracking them open he stared around at the room. It looked as if Valentine’s Day had thrown up all over the room. It was covered in pinks and purples so loud they made Draco’s head hurt even more just by looking at them. Sitting up gingerly, he let the sheets pool around his waist. He was suddenly aware that there was another individual sleeping in the bed with him. That there was another individual who was naked. Draco slid away from the sleeping figure only to have them stir. The figure moan slightly and rolled towards Draco. He gasped loudly as he laid eyes upon just _who_ he’d been sharing his bed with.

 

“ _Aucune fichue façon_...” Draco breathed.

 

He was lying next to Harry Potter. The bloody Savior of the Wizarding World. He was dead. He’d kidnapped the Savior. The whole magical community was going to kill him. Draco ran his left hand down his face only to have something metal slid coolly along his face. He stared down at his hand and found an ornate silver ring around his ring finger. Draco’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. He’d only seen this type of ring a handful of times and he feared the worst. Sliding out of bed, careful not to wake the dark-haired wizard. Grabbing his robes and clothes that were strewn all over the floor, he padded quietly toward the loo. He dressed quickly, his heart hammering against his chest. He stared at his hand again, frowning that the ring was still on his finger. Taking in a deep breath, he walked back out into the room. Potter was moving, whining and groaning that his head hurt.

 

He sat up slowly and gagged. “ _L-l-loo_...”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Loo.” Potter gagged again and burped behind his hand. “Where’s the loo?”

 

“Right,” Potter’s nude form zoomed past him. “Through there.”

 

Draco listened to Potter hack and cough for a few moments before the dark-haired wizard exited the bathroom in search of clothing. Pulling on his underwear and trousers, he turned to the nightstand where his wand lay. Casting a teeth-cleaning charm he turned to Draco.

 

“Good morning? Afternoon?” Potter rubbed his face. “Why are the colors in this room so loud?”

 

“It’s a honeymoon suite, apparently, it’s what Muggles assume is romantic.”

 

“Honeymoon suite?” The dark-haired wizard groaned. “Why on Earth are we in the honeymoon suite?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Why, dear husband, is because we are married.” He held up his left hand.

 

Potter looked down at his own. “Holy shit… Fuckity fuck…” He dropped down onto the bed. “Is this real?”

 

“From what I understand, it’s real. I’m assuming due to the lack of clothing we woke up with, we most certainly consummated the relationship.” Draco twirled the ring around his finger. “We’d have to check the Department of Official Records to be absolutely sure.”

 

Potter stood, snatching his shirt and robe from the floor. “Then we go to the Department of Official Records.”

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You expect to just waltz into the Department of Official Records and just ask for what you want?”

 

Potter flashed Draco a toothy grin. “Yes, yes I do.”

 

Draco grabbed his tie from the floor. “That’s incredibly presumptuous, don’t you think?”

 

“One of the many perks to destroying the Dark Lord.” Harry tossed him his cloak. “People just do things because I smile at them.”

 

Draco scowled, whipping the cloak around his shoulders. “Lead the way, Destroyer of the Dark Lord.”


	2. Chapter Two

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.two.

 

 

Harry walked briskly towards the desk. He ran his hands through his hair and adjusted his robes when he reached the desk. The woman sitting behind the desk currently had her face buried into a copy of the latest _Witch Weekly_. He hated using his notoriety this way, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

“Welcome to Department of Official Records.” She deadpanned, flipping another page. “My name is Donna; how may I help you?”

 

“Hello Donna, I’m Harry Potter.” Harry smiled brightly. “I have a minor request that I’m hoping you can help me out with.”

 

Donna’s eyes widened as she looked up. “Mister Potter, what can I help you with?”

 

“I’m doing a bit of research about my parents and I wanted to know if it was possible if I could take a look at their marriage certificate.” Harry leaned over the desk. “I don’t know much about them and it would really mean a lot to me if I knew when and where they got married.”

 

Donna looked from side to side. “Normally, you have to be a Ministry official to gain access to the records.”

 

“Oh...” Harry frowned.

 

“But, you are quite official according to the Ministry.” Donna stood, coming out from behind the desk. “What with having an Order of Merlin, and all. I think I can make an exception just this once.”

 

Harry clasped his hands together. “Thank you.”

 

Donna opened the door to the archives. “All the stacks are numbered by year, starting with January on the left. Newest in the front, oldest in the back. I’m assuming you have a time-frame to work with.”

 

“Yes, about a year before I was born.” Harry replied. “Thank you, again.”

 

“You are more than welcome Mister Potter.” Donna smiled cheerily. “I’ll be at my desk if you need anything.”

 

Harry smiled as Donna walked back to her desk. Once he was sure she was gone, he shot towards the stack with the most recent year date. He quickly scanned the February section and found exactly what he was looking for. He stared down at the certificate, his worst fears confirmed.

 

_Lord Harry James Potter of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter_

_wed._

_February the Fourteenth_

_to_

_Lord Draco Abraxas Malfoy of the Most Ancient and Distinguished House of Malfoy_

_Outside of Canvey Island near Thorney Bay_

“Fuck... _Fuck_...” Harry slipped the certificate into the inner pocket of this cloak. “Fuckity fuck fuck.”

 

He walked quickly back to the elevator, thanking Donna for a third time on his way out. Harry yanked Draco into the elevator and then slumped against the wall.  Draco glanced sideways at Harry. He looked pale, shaky even.

 

“So?”

 

“We’re married.” Harry replied flatly, holding up a folded piece of parchment. “Don’t worry I took the certificate.”

 

“Good.” Draco nodded. “I was thinking about my family’s tapestry while you were in there.” Harry looked up at him. “When you’re born, your name is magically stitched next to your parents. It works the same way when you get married.”

 

“Would my name show up automatically?”

 

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “Only if we consummated the marriage.”

 

Harry recalled the pleasant soreness he had woken up with. “Oh _fuck_...”

 

“My family will know by now.” Draco said solemnly. “We’ll have to go to my Grandfather.”

 

“Your grandfather?”

 

 “This puts a rather large hiccup in things.” He muttered.

 

“What kind of large hiccup in things?’

 

Draco sighed. “Important things. Things that have been in motion since I was a small boy. You should go home, shower and find the classiest outfit that you have in what I can imagine to be the most miniscule wardrobe for a wealthy wizard then meet me at this address.  Two hours should be sufficient, yes?” He handed Harry a card.

 

“More than enough, considering my miniscule wardrobe.” Harry slipped the card into his cloak pocket.

 

“Then feel free to be early.”  Draco stepped off the elevator. “Separate exits, don’t you think?”

 

“Probably a good idea.”

 

Draco smirked. “See you later.”

 

Harry watched as Draco walked towards the Apparition points from the Ministry. He groaned, of course Draco would take the easy way out and force Harry to the Floo exits. He hated the Floo.  Sighing, he began to trudge his way toward the Floo area when someone touched his shoulder.

 

“Harry?”

 

He turned around. “Hermione!”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Harry stared up at the ceiling. “Nothing.”

 

“Harry James Potter, you are a terrible liar. I am well aware that yesterday was Valentine’s Day. You didn’t stop at the house.” Hermione narrowed her eyes. “How drunk did you get?”

 

“Enough to get a minor citation.” Hermione took a deep breath. “And before you scold me, I just paid it, that’s why I’m here.”

 

“Well, I’m proud of you. Being responsible for once.” Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” Harry reassured. “If you could please do me a huge favor and not tell Molly, I would greatly appreciate it.”

 

“I won’t tell Molly.” Hermione replied. “Or Sirius and Remus. I know this time of year is hard for you, just promise me that you’ll keep yourself out of trouble.”

 

“I promise.” Harry turned to leave.

 

Hermione grabbed his shoulder again. “And visit Teddy. He misses you.”

 

Harry sighed. “I promise I’ll visit Teddy.”

 

“Good.” Hermione smiled. “Now go home and shower, you smell like a bar.”

 

“Gone.” Harry smiled and walked quickly to the Floo exits.

 

 

**.oOoOo.**

Harry slumped against the shower wall as he let the warm spray wash over his body. He rubbed his hands over his face, staring once again at the silver ring on his left hand. He was married. To Draco Malfoy. Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Lord Draco Abraxas Malfoy of the Most Ancient and Distinguished House of Malfoy _._ Harry sighed He quickly finished washing and exited the shower. He stood in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth. After spitting, he stared at his face. He stared at the smattering of freckles that dusted over his nose and cheeks. The way his green eyes stood out in a ridiculous manner but still somehow fit his face. He wasn’t unattractive by any means but he wasn’t anywhere near Draco Malfoy’s league. He sighed and dipped his hand into a pot of Sleakeazy’s hair potion Hermione had gifted him and quickly ran his hands through his hair. Exiting the bathroom, he dressed quickly and Apparated to the location that Draco had given him. He hadn’t landed for more than thirty seconds to find Draco waiting patiently on a park bench, reading the _Evening Prophet_.

 

“Only fifteen minutes early?” Draco said silkily.

 

“I got sidetracked at the Ministry.” Harry replied.

 

Draco looked him up and down. “A Muggle suit?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You said the classiest thing in my miniscule wardrobe.”

 

Draco raked his eyes over Harry’s form. “It’s a good color for you skin tone and it’s wonderfully tailored. Nicely done, Potter. Shall we go?” He gestured toward the tall grey building.

 

Harry looked stricken. “We’re meeting your grandfather now?”

 

“No, we’re meeting him at eight o’clock, Mother was very specific in the Howler she sent me.” Draco explained, walking briskly. “We are going to my flat to discuss what to tell him when he asks why I decided to toss my betrothal to the Greengrasses in the fire and marry the Savior of the Wizarding World.”

 

“Because telling your grandfather that we got black-out drunk and then got married on a whim doesn’t seem like a stellar idea.”

 

Draco groaned. “Not if you would like to stay attached to testicles. Walk faster.”

 

“Got it.” And Harry sped up his pace to keep with Draco’s long strides.

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.three.

 

 

Draco and Harry spent the next two hours trying to concoct a plausible story to tell Draco’s grandfather but were failing miserably. Harry had taken off his suit coat and toed off his shoes, lying back on the sofa. Draco was currently wearing a hole into his sitting room floor.

 

“I can’t believe that we haven’t come up with anything realistic.” Draco massaged his temples.

 

“No, we’ve thought of some very realistic ideas, except that you felt the need to play-act as your grandfather and shoot big giant Swiss cheese-like holes all of them.” Harry replied.

 

“Well, maybe we should go and not say a word. Just keep this giant secret and let it fester for the rest of our lives.” Draco sighed. “I need some tea, would you like a cup?”

 

Harry suddenly sat up. “That’s it!”

 

“Tea is the answer?”

 

“No, a secret.” Harry stood, rounding on Draco. “We’ve been in a secret relationship for the last few years. Off and on, to explain your philandering.” Draco glowered at Harry’s implication that he was a serial cheater. “Last night was the final straw for me. I gave you an ultimatum, either be with me forever or I was gone.”

 

A slow smile crept across Draco’s face. “And because I love you, I threw away my betrothal to the Greengrasses and married you.” Draco strode into the kitchen. “It’s good idea.”

 

“It’s great idea.” Harry smiled, congratulating himself.

 

“You know, I used to think that you used to hide behind Granger’s intelligence, but you’ve got a brain of your own.”

 

“Thank you?” Harry replied, unsure if what Draco had said was a compliment.

 

“You’re welcome.” Draco replied. “Go get your suit coat, we have to go.”

 

“Okay...” Harry walked toward sofa, picking up the suit coat off the arm.

 

“Harry, who made your suit?”

 

Harry looked down at the label on the inside of the suit. “Burberry.”

 

Draco hummed. “It’s a good suit.” He extended his hand to Harry. “Remember, we’ve been together for years. You’ve got to show complete and utter adoration for me and this relationship.”

 

Harry took Draco’s hand, leaning in slightly. “I will if you will.”

 

They disappeared with a pop.

 

**.oOoOo.**

 

 

Narcissa paced the drawing room worriedly. Ever since the Potter’s name had appeared next to Draco’s on the family tapestry, the whole Manor had been up in arms. Of course, Draco’s grandfather, Abraxas, had been furious. They had lost the potential to join with the Greengrass family with this careless marriage. Hopefully, this was something to be undone and they could go back to the lives they had planned for Draco and Astoria. There was a faint pop that announced a house elf had entered the room.

 

“Mistress Narcissa, Master Draco and his guest have arrived. Shall I show them to the dining hall?”

 

“No, Mipsy, bring them here.” Narcissa instructed. “And tell them to be quick about it.”

 

“Yes Mistress.” Mipsy bowed and popped out of sight.

 

 Narcissa began pacing the room again until she heard the sure footsteps of her son and his guest enter the room. Draco strode forward and kissed his mother on both cheeks.

 

“Lovely to see you again, Mother.”

 

“Stop with the niceties, Draco.” Narcissa said sharply. “You are in a whole world of trouble right now. After you’ve spoken with your grandfather, you will tell me the truth of what happened. Not the farce that you’ve concocted for grandfather’s benefit but the truth. Do you understand me, young man?”

 

“Yes, Mother.” Draco replied quietly.

 

“Good.” Narcissa took a deep breath. “You look extremely well-polished, Mister Potter. Did you dress yourself or did my son help you?”

 

Harry looked stricken for a moment. “I dressed myself.”

 

“Impressive and incredibly unexpected.” Narcissa commented absently. “Come on you two, he will not be kept waiting.”

 

Narcissa lead the two young men down a series of confusing corridors. She led them into large study and shut the doors behind them. Draco’s grandfather sat behind a large mahogany desk. He looked stern, eyebrows knitted as he shifted through the papers on the desk. He did not give them any attention when they stood in front of the desk. Harry looked nervously at Draco, as if he was asking if they should say something. Draco shook his head. Draco’s grandfather gathered the papers neatly and placed them in a file folder and set them to the side of the desk. He looked up at the two boys, spending extra time sizing Harry up.

 

“Draco.” He said plainly.

 

Draco stood straighter. “Grandfather.”

 

“Sit.” He instructed. “We have much to discuss.” Draco and Harry sat respectively in the two chairs placed in front of the desk. “You’ve done some rather distasteful things in your life that I have overlooked, but this is by far the most idiotic. That betrothal to the Greengrasses has been in place since you were nine years old. What would possess you to spit on that?”

 

“I... I wanted...” Draco began.

 

“You are a Malfoy.” Draco’s grandfather snapped. “We cannot afford to want, especially after your father’s indiscretions. The Greengrasses are a good family. A well-connected family. They will be outraged when I have to tell them that my grandson is no longer available.”

 

Draco looked down. “I’m sorry, Grandfather.”

 

“Sorry does not cut it, Draco.” He replied. “I am trying to pull this family out of the black hole that your father put us in and you make a move that sucks us back even further!”

 

Draco visibly bristled. Harry sighed, sitting up straighter in his chair. “Lord Malfoy, if I may interject.”

 

“He speaks!” Draco’s grandfather leaned back in his chair. “Alright, Mister Potter, you have the floor.”

 

“Firstly, you should address me by my proper title. I used yours, I should hope you’d give me the same courtesy and use mine.” Harry smiled. “I will agree that Greengrasses are a good, well-connected family but so are the Potters. Would you rather align your family with one who had sympathized with the Dark Lord’s ravings or one that had fought valiantly against them? You know full well that I am not in it for the money. I have my own being the heir to the Potter legacy as well as the named heir of the Black estate. A piece of which you would have received when your son married Narcissa. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the whole pie?”

 

Lord Malfoy stiffened. “I know of your family and financial standings, _Lord_ Potter.”

 

“Then there should be no issue with this marriage. Remember who I am, Lord Malfoy.” Harry lifted his chin. “I am Harry James Potter, Order of Merlin; First Class. Destroyer of the Dark Lord. I believe my social and financial standings make me a worthy candidate for your grandson.” Harry pursed his lips. “And I love him. As unorthodox as we may be, I care a great deal for Draco. I have for a long time.”

 

“You have made some very fine points, Lord Potter.” Lord Malfoy acquiesced. “But there are a few things that Astoria has over you.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“A womb, for one.” Lord Malfoy grabbed the file folder and began going through it again. “But you two seem determined. I assume that two weeks is enough time to plan your announcement party.”

 

“Yes, Grandfather.” Draco stood, motioning Harry to come with him.

 

“Good.” Lord Malfoy picked up his quill and began writing. “Now, you better go to the dining hall. I assume your mother wants to fawn over you and your new husband.”

 

“Yes, Grandfather, you’re probably right.” Draco took Harry’s hand and headed for the door.

 

“Draco?”

 

Draco looked warily at his grandfather. “Yes?”

 

“Congratulations.” He simpered.

 

Draco nodded, pulling Harry with him as he exited the room.

 

 

**.oOoOo.**

 

 

“Explain.” Narcissa said sharply, neatly spearing a piece of chicken with her fork.

 

“Er…” Draco started. “We decided to get married.”

 

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. “How and why did you decide to get married? I assume there was a method to your decision making.”

 

“Yes, um… There was a method to the decision making.” Harry began, shrinking under Narcissa’s gaze. “In that there was no real method to the decision making.”

 

Narcissa laid down her silverware. “Now, what I believe happened is that you, Mister Potter, were inebriated in a pub. You happened to run into my dear son, who was also inebriated in said pub. Then you two, after getting intoxicated further, run off into the night together. Unlike two drunk young people who run off and have a one-night stand; you get married and then consummate the union making it permanent.”

 

“Mother—”

  
“Not another word, Draco.” Narcissa folded her hands in her lap and turned to Harry. “You have created a shitstorm of epic proportions for my family, Mister Potter. Here’s what going to happen. I’m going to give you three weeks, Mister Potter, to tell your family and friends that you’ve married my son. Two weeks, I will throw you a wonderful announcement party where you will pose for the _Prophet_ and be so disgustingly in love with each other no one will be able to stand it.” Narcissa stood. “Then you two will have however long to decide how to dissolve this. Am I clear?”

 

“Yes, Mother.” Draco replied.

 

“Good.” Narcissa smiled sweetly, then left the dining hall.

 

Harry slumped in his seat. “She hates me.”

 

“She doesn’t hate you.” Draco replied. “If she hated you, she would have whipped her dinner knife at your forehead.”

 

“Oh, good to know that she just severely dislikes me.” Harry replied.    

 

“It’ll take some time.” Draco sighed. “We should discuss living arrangements.”

 

“I’m not living here.” Harry snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I don’t live here. I certainly won’t make you either.”

 

“Then where?”

 

Draco leaned onto the table. “Well, you work in London. I work in London. I also have a very nice flat in London…”

 

“Are you asking me to move in with you when I have a perfectly good home in Milton Keynes.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “That’s nearly two hours outside the city. Not necessarily ideal for a daily commute.”

 

Harry frowned. “But I like my house.”

 

“I’m sure it’s very lovely. It’s just not in an ideal location.”

 

“You could Apparate.” Harry offered.

 

“That’s incredibly taxing.” Draco replied. “Perhaps we can reside at my apartment during the week and your lovely cottage on the weekends and holidays.”

 

“I suppose that could work…” Harry slumped in his seat. “What about this? How long do we let this go?”

 

“Let what go?”

 

Harry held up his left hand. “This marriage. Your mother seemed quite clear on us dissolving it at some point.”

 

“I think we cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we impose some sort of time limit?”

 

Draco barked a laugh. “That eager to be free of me?”

 

“Well, no…”

 

“Let’s give it a year.” Draco suggested. “Have a spectacular break up that gets splashed all over the tabloids.”

 

“People will hate you.” Harry murmured.

 

“I can handle being the most hated wizard in the United Kingdom for a while.”

 

Harry sighed. “If you’re sure.”

 

“I am…” Draco leaned back in his chair.  “So, when do you want to tell your friends?”


	4. Chapter Four

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.four.

 

 

 

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” Hermione questioned.

 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Draco and I are married.”

 

“When did this happen?” Remus asked.

 

Draco cleared his throat. “Valentine’s Day.”

 

Hermione leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. Remus and Sirius sat silently, looking at one another while the Weasleys sat stunned. Harry lifted his hand to naw on his thumbnail, only to have Draco take his hand in his own. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the gesture.

 

“How long has this been going on?” She asked.

 

Harry shrugged. “A while.”

 

“We’ve been keeping it quiet.” Draco added.

 

“Practically silent.” Ron snorted.

 

“Ron…” Hermione groaned.

 

“I asked Harry to.” Draco replied. “I know that you all aren’t fond of my family and I didn’t want our relationship to affect his relationship with all of you.”

 

“Oh, Draco, dear.” Mrs. Weasley smiled. “I know that that there have been tensions between our families in the past, but Harry is an adult. He can fall in love with and marry whoever he chooses. Besides,” Molly blushed slightly. “you’re a very attractive young man, Draco. And gainfully employed with the… with the… er…”

 

“Wizengamot, ma’am.” Draco supplied. 

 

“The Wizengamot!” She slapped Arthur on the arm. “Did you hear that? The Wizengamot! In what capacity?”

 

“I’m the Deputy Head Solicitor, Mrs Weasley.”

 

Sirius popped up. “Is this a recent promotion? I thought Cristler was the Deputy Head Solicitor.”

 

“He was, but he was promoted to the Head Solicitor.” Draco replied. “He actually recommended me for the position.”

 

Harry leaned into Draco. “It’s because you’re extraordinarily good at your job.”

 

Draco blushed. “I just… I had to prove myself, is all.”

 

Harry bumped his shoulder against Draco’s. “Because you’re extraordinarily good.”

 

“I…”

 

Harry lightly punched Draco in the shoulder. “Just take the compliment.”

 

“Fine.” Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “We’ve got to go. Mother is expecting us at six.”

 

Harry clapped his hands together. “So now you all know. We’ll give you time to process.” He stood, pulling the blonde wizard with him. “You’ll all be getting an invitation in the post for our announcement party. It would mean a lot to me if you _all_ attended. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Draco and I have to go and taste all the food. Again.”

 

            The room moved to hug and congratulate the pair on their recent nuptials. Draco and Harry smiled graciously and left quietly. Ron flopped down into one of their emptied chairs, while his father paced across the room.

 

“So… You don’t think they’re doing this as some sort of publicity stunt?” Bill asked, causing Fleur to smack him in the shoulder. “What? I wouldn’t put it past Malfoy to pull a stunt like this to pull his family’s name out of the gutter.”

 

“Harry is not nor will he ever be a publicity puppet.” Hermione said firmly.

 

“But you have agree that it’s a bit odd that they’re together.” Ron said. “I mean the last time that they were in a room together was graduation.”

 

“Ze did zay they were keeping it quiet, az to not affect ‘Arry’s relationship with us.” Fleur quipped. “Zo he marreed a former bad boy. I’m inclined to agree with Molly, he iz _très attrayant_.”

 

“And Deputy Head Solicitor of the Wizengamot?” Hermione leaned back in her chair. “I mean, he may be the youngest wizard to ever hold that position. His career path alone would elevate the Malfoy name back to good standing. Marrying Harry would just be a bonus.”

 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “So you think they genuinely like each other enough to elope?”

 

“No,” Hermione replied flatly. “I think they got drunk in a pub and accidently married each other.”

 

“Hermione!” Remus exclaimed.

 

She crossed her arms over chest. “It makes the most sense. Especially if it happened on Valentine’s Day.”

 

The all sat silently contemplating Harry’s new marital status. They all wanted to believe the best. That Harry and Draco were happy, but something niggled in the back of all their minds. Hopefully, they wouldn’t find out exactly what it was.

 

 

**.oOoOo.**

Draco and Harry walked briskly up the garden drive to the Malfoy Manor. They were dangerously on the edge of being late to meet with the caterers and Harry could feel the waves of uneasy rolling off Draco as the blonde tugged him towards the main house. They practically sprinted to the dining hall, where Narcissa sat waiting.

 

“Six o’clock, right on the nose.” She intoned. “Sit, I’d like to get started.” Harry plopped into a seat across from Narcissa while Draco sat at the head of the table. “Franco, you may begin.”

 

A small army of house elves brought forth an array of different plates. Franco, their potential caterer, began to explain each as house elves dished small servings of everything onto their plates.

 

“We thought we’d start with a spanakopita and a Thai crab puff.” Franco explained. “Alternatively, we could go with bacon-wrapped scallops and figs with prosciutto.” He spied Harry’s raised eyebrow at what had been dished onto his plate. “For those with less discerning palates.”

 

Draco leaned in towards Harry. “Spanakopita is just a fancy title for spinach and cheese wrapped in phyllo. You’ll like it.”

 

“And if I don’t?”

 

Draco sat back in his chair. “Then we have scallops and figs.”

 

“I just don’t understand why the food needs to be so complicated.” Harry replied, pushing the crab puff around his plate. “It’s just food.”

 

“Franco,” Draco folded his hands in his lap. “Is it possible for us to keep this simple and light? For my husband’s sake, please?”

 

Franco rolled his eyes. “I suppose I could come up with a simplified menu for your husband’s delicate palate.”

 

“Then with the money we’re saving simplifying the menu, you can put towards the alcohol.” Draco smiled, rising from his seat. “Mother, I trust you can put together the perfect simple menu?”

 

“I’m sure Franco and I can manage.” Narcissa replied smoothly.

 

“Wonderful.” Draco pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “We’ll see you on Friday, Mother.”

 

Draco pulled Harry from his seat. “Thank you for making all the arrangements, Mrs Malfoy.”

 

“Narcissa.” She replied. “You may call me Narcissa, Mr Potter. I am your mother-in-law, after all.”

 

“Of course, Narcissa.” Harry replied.

 

She waved him off. “Oh Draco, please make sure that he’s dressed appropriately for this affair.”

 

“Absolutely, Mother.” Draco replied, pushing Harry through the dining hall door.


	5. Chapter Five

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.five.

 

 

 

Harry stood in front of the large mirror in Draco’s bedroom. “I feel ridiculous.”

 

“You look fine.” Draco replied, straightening his tie. “You should wear wizard-clothing more often. It suits you.”

 

“It’s so… I don’t know…”

 

“Fitted?” Draco offered. “It’s supposed to be that way. Just like that Burberry suit of yours.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re not helping.”

 

“Again, you look fine.” He stared down at his pocket watch. “Stop fussing, our Portkey activates in two minutes.” Draco pulled Harry close, producing a silver spoon. “Remember, we’re disgustingly in love.”

 

“I won’t forget.” Harry eyed the spoon. “That Portkey couldn’t be more appropriate.”

 

“Har har.”  Draco scowled. “Touch the spoon, Potter.”

 

            Harry grabbed the spoon and felt the familiar tug behind his navel. After the feeling of being squeezed to a tube, they landed in the Malfoy Manor gardens. Despite the cold, the garden was in full bloom and warm, decorated with fairy lights and high topped tables with lacy tablecloths. Trays floated around carrying flutes of champagne and hor d'oeuvres. Narcissa moved toward them, carrying two wreaths in her hand.

 

“Thank you for being on time.” She placed a plain laurel wreath atop Draco’s head. “The natives are already restless.”

 

Draco kissed both of her cheeks. “It’ll be fine, Mother.”

 

Narcissa placed the other wreath on Harry’s head. “You look dashing, Mr Potter. Dress robes suit you.”

 

“Thank you, Narcissa.” He replied, adjusting the wreath on his head.

 

“I’m going to go check on the food. The two of you go and mingle.” Narcissa readjusted the wreath on Harry’s head. “Make sure to say hello to your uncle first, Draco.”

 

“Yes, Mother.” Draco sighed.

 

“Is there any particular reason my wreath has flowers and yours does not?” Harry questioned.

 

Draco fingered the wreath on Harry’s head. “Because you are my bride.”

 

“Your bride?”

 

“I can’t help that you exude the presence of a nelly bottom.”

 

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “I am not a nelly bottom.”

 

“That’s not what I remember.” Draco murmured, running a finger along Harry’s jawline.

 

Harry shuddered slightly. “You remember that night?”

 

“Bits and pieces have been coming back to me.” Draco replied, placing his hand on the small of Harry’s back, pushing him towards the party. “You were very vocal.”

 

Harry blushed. “I was?”

 

“Yes, in the most delicious way.” Draco grabbed two flutes of champagne off a floating tray. “Uncle Lysander, so glad you could make it. I’m sure that you know my husband.”

 

“The Great and Powerful Harry Potter.” Lysander replied, shaking Harry’s hand. “Your photos really do you no justice. I can see why my nephew fell for you.”

 

Harry looked at the ground. “Thank you.”

 

“If you’ll excuse us.” Draco pulled Harry away from his uncle.

 

“He looks just like your father.” Harry breathed.

 

“Yes, we Malfoy men tend to look alike.” Draco replied.

 

“I wasn’t expecting—” Harry pressed a palm to his sternum. “It was a little jarring.”

 

“One of the many reasons he doesn’t socialize much anymore.” Draco rounded on Harry. “Are you going to be alright?”

 

“Yes, I just hate these things.” Harry gulped down the glass of champagne.

 

“It’ll be over soon. Shall we go speak with your friends?”

 

            Harry nodded and Draco ushered them towards the group of redheads that had congregated near the lavender bushes. They spoke at length with them, Harry smiling as Molly and Hermione gushed over his marriage wreath. Draco was subjected to slaps of congratulations on the back from Bill and Sirius. After speaking with the Weasleys, Harry and Draco made their way to the opposite side of the gardens, stopping to speak with guests along the way. It wasn’t until they ran into Draco’s former housemates, that Harry had any real trouble.

 

“Oh Potter, you make a beautiful bride.” Pansy purred.

 

Draco sniggered as Harry rolled his eyes. “Why does everyone think I’m the ‘woman’ of this relationship?”

 

“It’s those lips and big eyes.” Blaise commented. “It’s not hard to imagine you down on your knees with a cock in your mouth.”

 

Draco snorted into his drink. “Blaise, there are less crude ways of saying that.”

 

“What?” Blaise shrugged. “We’ve all thought about it. You’ve got Bambi-eyes, Potter. Slytherins are a sucker for anyone with Bambi-eyes. They’re always so innocent and we love to devour that.” Harry flushed scarlet. “It’s a serious compliment, Slytherin to Gryffindor.”

 

“Thank you, I think…” Harry muttered, snatching another flute of champagne and downing it quickly.

 

Pansy crossed her arms over her chest. “Gryffindors and their delicate sensibilities. I don’t know how you ever fell for one, Draco.”

 

Draco pulled the dark-haired wizard close. “Like you said, Bambi-eyes. The bonus is that he’s got brain as well.”

 

Harry smacked Draco in the chest. “Don’t be a jerk.”

 

“I’ll try not to be.” He pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple. Pansy and Blaise made a gagging noise. “Stop it, he’s my husband. I’m allowed to be sappy.”

 

Harry turned into Draco, playing with lapels on his dress robes. “I enjoy you sappy.”

 

There was click and a flash. Harry squinted up at Draco and another _click-flash_ goes off.

 

“You really know how to frame a photo.” Draco whispered.

 

Harry smirked, tucking his head under Draco’s chin. “I’m quite tired of seeing photos of myself in _Witch Weekly_ looking like a deer caught in headlights.” _Click-flash_.

 

Draco hummed in agreement as Narcissa approached the two of them.

 

“There you are! I’ve been looking for the two of you.” She tugged on Draco’s arm. “It’s time for your first dance.”

 

“First dance?” Harry looked confused.

 

Narcissa scowled. “I assumed this was a well-known Muggle custom.”

 

“It is, I just didn’t think that Wizardkind adhered to the same traditions.”

 

“Draco insisted on this one. Said it would make you happy.”  

 

Harry smiled up at Draco. “It does make me happy.”

 

            Tables discreetly crept their way from the middle of the garden, leaving a bare space in between. Draco led Harry to the middle of makeshift dancefloor and the fairy lights dimmed slightly. Malfoy pulled the dark-haired wizard close. The dulcet tones of a guitar filled the air and the two began to sway to it gently.

 

“This is Coldplay.”

 

“Uh-hmm.”

 

Harry pulled away from Draco slightly. “Coldplay is a Muggle band.”

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“But why?”

 

“We danced to it in the pub that night.”

 

“We did?” Harry looked confused. “How are you remembering things and I’m not?”

 

“Because I’m making an effort to remember.”

 

Harry frowned. “I am trying, you know.”

 

“Close your eyes and think.” Draco whispered. “ _The green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you. And how could, anyone, deny you?_ ” _Click-flash_.

 

“You sang to me.” Harry breathed. “You sang this song to me. Why would you sing to me?”

 

“To get into your pants, presumably.” Draco replied, curling their hands towards his chest. _Click-flash_. “It worked rather well, didn’t it?”

 

Harry snorted. “It worked a little too well.” _Click-flash_. “It’s rather sweet, you serenading me.”

 

Draco pressed his cheek to Harry’s temple. _Click-flash_. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not normally this nice.”

 

“Oh, I won’t.” Harry smiled into Draco’s lapel.

 

            The last few strings of the song play and Draco dipped Harry, kissing him soundly. Once up righted, Harry was flushing scarlet. They made one more circuit around the party, accepting congratulations. Draco was pulled away by his mother, citing his grandfather wanted to have a private word. Harry found himself alone with Draco’s uncle Lysander, the man handing him a flute filled with bubbly pink liquid.

 

“I’m sorry if I startled you earlier.”

 

Harry accepted the glass. “It’s not your fault.”

 

“No, I suppose not.” Lysander replied. “My older brother did some terrible things. Looking just like him has not done me any favors. Luckily, Draco has fared quite a bit better. Though, he looks more like Narcissa than Lucius.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“He has the general Malfoy features, yes.” Lysander sipped his drink, eyes straying over to where Draco stood with Sirius and Remus. “You ever notice how much he and Sirius look alike?”

 

            Harry followed Lysander sight line to Draco. He had to admit that he was right. While Draco sported the same white-blonde hair and aristocratic nose as his father, his broad shoulders and tapered waist looked identical to Sirius’. He tried to imagine Draco as a brunette and could see what Lysander was talking about.

 

“I can see what you mean.” Harry sipped his drink.

 

Lysander looked very serious. “Take good care of him. He didn’t have the happiest childhood. He deserves a little sweetness in his life. You can be that sweetness, can’t you?”

 

Harry shivered slightly, gulping down the rest of his drink. “Yes, I can.”

 

“Perfect.” Lysander smiled. “Goodnight, Mr Potter.”

 

            Harry nodded, dropping his glass on a floating tray as he made his way over to where Draco was standing. The blonde smiled softly at him as he wrapped an arm around his waist. As they stood speaking with Remus and Sirius, Harry wavered slightly. Draco tightened his grip around the dark-haired wizard’s waist and looked down with concern.

 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Remus asked.

 

Harry nodded. “I think I’ve had too much champagne.”

 

“Would you like to go home?” Draco asked.

 

“I’m alright.” He swayed more noticeably this time.

 

“You are not alright, we’re going home.” Draco said more firmly.

 

“Thank you for coming.” Harry smiled wistfully.

 

Sirius winked. “Have a good night, Prongslet.”

 

Remus embraced Harry. “Make sure you eat something.”

 

“I’ll make sure he does.” Draco replied.

 

            Draco pulled the spoon that had brought them to the Manor gardens earlier in the evening. Harry wrapped his hand loosely around the spoon, leaning into Draco. The blonde whispered the password and the pair was whisked away from the garden party.


	6. Chapter Six

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.six.

 

 

            Harry and Draco landed soundly in the middle of Draco’s living room. Harry stumble slightly as he made his way down the hallway to his bedroom. He placed his hand on the wall to steady himself.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Draco asked.

 

“Yes, I’m fine.” Harry said sharply. “Just too much champagne and not enough food.”

 

“If you’re sure…” Draco looked skeptical. “I think I should take Lupin’s advice and make you some toast.”

 

Harry held up a hand. “No need. I will be fine. Goodnight, Draco.” He slipped behind the door to his room.

 

“Goodnight to you too, Potter.” Draco muttered.

 

            Heading towards his own room, he shed his outer robes and headed towards the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he waited for the water to warm up. The night had been successful. He was sure that the public would eat up the farce that they were a happily married couple. The honeysuckle and lily-of-the-valley his mother had weaved into Harry’s wedding laurels were ideal, playing up his innocence and sweet nature. The dance had been perfect, the dip at the end and Harry’s flushed face would play well in the tabloids and the _Prophet_.

            Stepping under the hot spray, Draco’s mind wandered back to the night in the pub. The outline of Harry’s smile coming into focus as he thought back to the song. The way he caught his bottom lip in his teeth. The way his chest heaved has Draco ran a hand down his chest. How Harry’s blunt nails dug into his shoulders as he thrust deeply into him. He banged his head against the tile. Every time he tried to remember the night he and Harry got accidentally married, the only thing he could get to come back was the song in the pub and the sex they had afterword. Remembering the sex made him impossibly hard. Just holding Harry close made him feel aroused. Sighing, he washed quickly and exited the shower. Dressing quickly, he headed towards the kitchen. He poured himself a large glass of water and chugged it unceremoniously in an effort to calm himself down. Making his way back to his bedroom, he caught the sound a loud thump from Harry’s room.  
  


Draco knocked lightly on his door. “Potter?”  
  


His question was answered with a moaned. “G-go away…”  
  


He rolled his eyes. “Harry, are you alright?”

 

“Ugh…”

 

“I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you’ve vomited on that carpet…” Draco pushed the door open to find Harry on the floor in a tangle of sheets. His face was flushed and his breathing was labored. “Merlin, what happened?”

 

“I don’t… I don’t know…” Harry arched his back. “I’m so hot…”

 

Draco pressed a hand to Harry’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

 

“I’m hot… Hot…” Harry panted. “My whole body is hot.”

 

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Your whole body…”

 

Harry dragged his hands across his chest. “Hot… And tight…”

 

“Blow in my face.”

 

Harry turned his face away from him. “Hot… So hot…”

 

Draco captured Harry’s head in his hands. “Blow in my face, Harry.” The dark-haired wizard blew lightly in his face. “Coriander, fuck… Did anyone give you a pink drink tonight?”

 

“Your un-uncle did…” Harry moaned. “I t-thought it was rosé. W-why is it im-important?”

 

“You were dosed with a Lust Potion.”

 

Harry moaned again. “W-what do I do?”

 

Draco sat back on the floor and sighed. “Well you have two options. You can wait it out.”

 

“H-how long?”

 

“Four to forty-eight hours, depending on the strength of the dose.”

 

“T-that’s too long…” Harry breathed. “What’s… What’s the o-other option?”

 

Draco ran a hand through his hair. “The other option is to use intercourse to force it out of your system.”

 

“W-what?”

 

Draco groaned. “I can fuck it out of you.”

 

Harry stared hard at Draco for a moment and then closed his eyes. “I-I can w-wait it out.”

 

“You could go mad.” Draco replied.

 

Harry rolled on his side, shivering. “I’ve l-lived through w-worse.”

 

Draco pulled Harry so he was laying on his back, hovering over him. “Your brain could boil.”

 

“Y-you don’t h-have to do th-this.” Harry panted. “M-maybe we can—”

 

Draco placed a hand over Harry’s mouth. “I am your husband now and the world knows. It would be…   _inadvisable_ to have someone else do it.”

 

“It’s fin—”

 

            Draco kissed Harry hard, straddling the brunette wizard. He melted, moaning deeply as Draco ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Draco leaned back, shucking his shirt. He ran his hands down Harry’s sides and hooked his fingers into his boxers. Harry lifted his hips so Draco could pull them off his body.

 

“You’ve got to get up.” Draco whispered, pulling away.

 

Harry groaned, reaching out for the blonde. “I am _up_.”

 

“On the bed.” Draco corrected. “I don’t think it would be wise to do this on the carpet.”

 

Harry nodded and tried to lift himself of the floor. He slipped and collapsed forward into Draco’s arms. “Why a-am I so w-weak?”

 

Draco lifted him to the bed easily. “The potion is supposed to make you more docile.”

 

“Ah-hhh … I-it’s getting w-worse.” Harry arched off the bed. “I f-feel like I’m o-on fire.”

 

Draco pulled the string on his pajama bottoms, exposing himself. “Do you have any…”

 

Harry moaned. “It’s n-not necessary…”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“T-trust me… i-it’s not neces-necessary.” Harry arched again, clutching the sheets. “Please, please!”

 

            Draco crawled onto the bed between Harry’s legs. He pushed Harry’s knees outward, running a hand down the inside of his thigh. The brunette moaned, spreading his legs further. Draco pressed a finger into him, finding that he wasn’t lying about any preparation not being necessary. Placing on hand on Harry’s hip, he angled himself with Harry’s entrance.

 

“Ready?”

 

Harry gripped the sheets and lifted his hips to give Draco better access. “Beyond…”

 

            Draco nodded and thrust forward, enveloping himself in Harry’s tight heat. Harry moaned loudly, arching even farther if possible. He pulled out and slowly slid home again.

 

“Don’t b-be gentle… J-just fuck m-me.” Harry snapped.

 

“Bossy, bossy.” Draco replied, punctuating the words with a thrust.

 

“J-just do it!”

 

            Draco growled, pulling one of Harry’s legs up over his shoulder and slammed back into him. He set a brutal pace, slamming into Harry over and over until his world turned white. He felt Harry tangle his fingers into his hair, arching up to meet every single thrust. It wasn’t long before both their rubber bands snapped. They came together, a tangled mess of limbs. Draco pressed his forehead to Harry’s as he slid out of him. Murmuring gently, he wandless banished the mess between the two of them before rolling over. He watched as the rise and fall of the brunette wizard’s chest began to slow and become more even. He laid back, equally exhausted and let sleep claim him.


	7. Chapter Seven

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.seven.

 

 

 

            Harry awoke the following morning feeling sore but incredibly satisfied. He rolled over to find Draco snoring lightly beside him. He smiled slightly, surprised that the blonde had stayed with him all night. He looked so normal, asleep, hair falling haphazardly across his face.

 

“Stop staring, Potter, it’s creepy.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You stayed the night.”

 

Draco stretched. “I couldn’t risk damaging your delicate Gryffindor sensibilities by letting you wake up alone.”

 

“Really?” Harry sat up, looking genuinely impressed.

 

“Merlin, no.” Draco huffed. “I… er… wanted to make sure that you’re alright. The _Calorem Stupri_ can be a fickle mistress.”

 

“ _Calorem Stupri_?” Harry leaned back into the pillows. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, I’m quite sure. There’s only three mild Lust Potions that would make your body feel hot like it did. Only one of them has coriander in them.”

 

Harry sat up suddenly. “Do you have a copy of the _Delicious Magic of Mixology_?”

 

Draco nodded. “In the liquor cabinet in the front room…”

 

            Harry slid out of bed, padding quickly out of the bedroom. Draco sighed, sliding out of the bed, picking up his pajamas along the way. He found Harry sitting in front of the liquor cabinet, book open in his lap.

 

“Have you ever heard of a Cinnamon Cal?”

 

“No, I cannot say that I have.”

 

“When you mentioned _Calorem Stupri_ it triggered something in my memory. The night we got married,” Harry murmured. “the bartender brought me a Cinnamon Cal. I asked who it was from and he said an admirer. Then five minutes later, you sit down next to me.”

 

“Purely by coincidence.” Draco interjected. “I didn’t send you that drink.”

 

“Yes, coincidence.” Harry said, waving a hand  dismissively. “A Cinnamon Cal isn’t a drink that you would normally order in a pub. It’s a drink meant to be shared at home between lovers.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s made with cinnamon schnapps and _Calorem Stupri_.” Harry closed the book matter-of-factly. “Except I remember that my drink was shimmery. The bartender told me that there was Goldschläger in it and that’s what made it shimmery.”

 

“Goldschläger?”

 

“A Swiss Muggle brand of cinnamon schnapps with gold flakes in it.”

 

Realization dawned on Draco’s face. “The gold would react with the Ashwinder eggs, creating memory loss.”

 

“And that’s why I can barely remember anything.” Harry laughed hysterically. “I got roofied!”

 

Draco look puzzled. “Roofied?”

 

“It’s slang for being dosed with Rohypnol.” Harry sighed at Draco’s continued confused state. “It’s a Muggle date-rape drug.”   

 

“Harry, you shouldn’t be so flippantly about this situation.” Draco said sternly. “Someone was trying to hurt you that night. You’re lucky it was me who sat down next to you.”

 

Harry slumped down on the carpet. “Who would do such a thing? And so boldly.”

 

“There are people who still sympathize with Voldemort’s ideology. Capturing you would be their greatest accomplishment to their leader, even posthumously. I should know, I put them away on a semi-regular basis.” Draco crossed his arms. “Do you want me to look into it for you?”

 

Harry shook his head, putting the book back in the liquor cabinet. “No, it’s not necessary.”

 

“But, you were drugged. You could have been assaulted or even killed.”

 

“But instead I got saddled with you as a husband.” Harry snorted.

 

“This isn’t funny, Potter.” Draco snapped. “Someone was trying to make an attempt on your life.”

 

Harry shrugged. “When you’ve had a homicidal maniac chase you across Europe for most of your life, getting drugged in a pub is fairly low on the totem pole of what I consider dangerous.” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry rolled his eyes again. “Would it let your solicitor brain rest if I let you look into this?”

 

“Yes, I believe it would.”

 

“Fine…” Harry sighed, standing. “look into it. I’m going to go shower.’”

 

            Draco watched Harry’s lithe form saunter down the hallway to his bedroom. It took large part of his self-control not to follow him down the hallway and take the dark-haired wizard in the shower. Despite being under the influence of a Lust Potion the two times they had been intimate, Draco had to admit that Harry Potter was his type. Most of the lovers he had taken in the past were built with the same small frame, dark hair and jewel-bright eyes. He shook his head, hoping the inappropriate thoughts tucked themselves back into his subconscious. He was not yet willing to come to terms with the fact that he may or may not have had a crush on Potter for years.

 

            Stalking across the living room to his den, he plopped down behind his desk and hit the speed dial on his desk phone.

 

“Draco, darling! It’s a bit early for you to be calling. Did you not enjoy your night with your husband?”

 

The phrase caused Draco to pause. “It was an eventful night.”

 

“Do tell.” She replied excitedly.

 

“That’s not why I called you, Pans.”

 

Pansy sighed. “You never call just chat anymore.”

 

“You’re the one who chose to be a fixer.” Draco replied. “Besides I need some dirt on my husband.”

 

He could practically hear the eye roll through the phone. “You two have been together not even a month and you’re already looking for dirt?”

 

“Perhaps not dirt.” Draco said slowly. “Just information on his former relationships.”

 

“You want impossible information.” Pansy snorted.

 

“It’s not impossible.” Draco snapped. “You’re too good for it to be impossible.”

 

“I’m glad you think so highly of my skills…” Pansy sighed. “I’ll do this but you owe me. Big time. Like all expenses paid trip to the Maldives big.”

 

            There was a click and the call disconnected. Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair. He could think of at least ten people that wanted to harm Harry right off the top of his head. All of which were currently rotting in their cells at Azkaban but still had ties to the outside world. He raked a hand through his hair and headed back to the kitchen. He found Harry flitting about the kitchen, pans on the stove top sizzling loudly.

 

“Are you making breakfast?”

 

Harry turned to face him. “Um, yes.”

 

Draco smirked. “You are aware that you are not really my wife.”

 

Harry scowled. “I am nobody’s wife.”

 

Draco nodded solemnly. “But you are a bossy bottom.”

 

Harry flushed scarlet. “I am not a _bossy_ _bottom_.” He turned back to the pan on the stove. “I wasn’t in control myself.”

 

“I’m sure you’re not.” Draco waved his hand. “Though I may never know what you’re like when you’re… How would you say? In control of your faculties.”

 

“Do you… never mind…” Harry sighed and set a plate down in front of Draco. “Enjoy.”

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “A full English breakfast?”

 

“You have a very well stocked pantry and fridge.”

 

“I shall have to tell Medina you approve of her shopping choices.”

 

“Medina?”

 

“My housekeeper.”

 

“Of course, you have a housekeeper.”

 

Draco narrowed his gaze at Harry. “What does that mean?”

 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.” Harry replied, scooping eggs and sausages onto his own plate. “You’re just a product of your upbringing.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “You can dismiss my upbringing, but I was well cared for. You would have been brought up in a similar fashion had your parents survived.”

 

“I highly doubt that.” Harry plopped down across the table from the blonde.

 

“Why?” Draco asked. “Because your mother was raised by Muggles?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Hermione was raised by Muggles, look how well she’s assimilated.”

 

Harry looked up from his meal. “How so?”

 

“You don’t remember her gung-ho attitude about freeing house elves in school, do you?”

 

“Vaguely…” Harry replied. “Everything is very vague during that time of my life.”

 

“Understandable.” Draco scraped the remains of his breakfast onto a slice of toast. “I would assume the little things would seem very vague when you have a homicidal maniac after you.”

 

“You would be correct.” Harry pushed his eggs around his plate.

 

Draco rose from his seat. “It must be nice to have some sort of normalcy.”

 

“If you want to call constantly followed by the press ‘normalcy’.”

 

Draco snorted as he rinsed his dish. “Why do you think I have a flat in Muggle London?”

 

“You are followed by the press?”

 

“Son of a high profile Death Eater becomes a prominent solicitor for the Wizengamot.” Draco sighed. “I’m perfect fodder for the tabloids. Not that they ever report on my successes in court.”

 

“They only care about what your wearing, who your seen with—”

 

“Who I’m sticking my cock into.” Draco finished.

 

“That’s the only thing they really care about.” Harry murmured.

 

“All the more reason to stay married to one another.” Draco replied. “At least it’ll give them nothing to report on if we’re some boring married couple.”

 

            Harry watched as Draco rose from the table, placing the dirty dish in the sink. He hadn’t expected for the blonde wizard to want to stay married. What he expected was for them to put on a farce for the next few months and then have a spectacular break up that would be fodder for the papers for weeks. Not the fact that the Malfoy wanted to remain as his husband. He quickly shoveled the rest of his breakfast onto a slice of toast and followed Draco to his office.


	8. Chapter Eight

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.eight.

 

 

“You want to stay married?”

 

Draco headed into his study. “Why not? You’re probably a much preferable option to whomever my Grandfather arranged for me.”

 

“So, you are a homosexual.” Harry smirked.

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not the discerning type, I just prefer to fuck men.”

 

“Again, so you’re gay.” Harry stated, following the blonde into the room.

 

“I find my sexuality to be fluid.” The blonde slid behind his desk. “Most Purebloods are. We don’t find it necessary to fit ourselves into little descriptive boxes like the Muggles do.”

 

“Must be nice.”

 

“For some.” Draco replied, going through files. “Unless you’re from an old house, then boy-fucking is usually frowned upon.”

 

“The Malfoys are an old house.”

 

Draco shuffled through his files. “The most ancient and distinguished.”

 

“So, your family… They’re rather upset you married me then.” Harry said quietly, flopping into an overstuffed leather chair.

 

“No, they were not the happiest, though I think that my uncle rather likes you.” Draco replied, looking up from his files. “Don’t you have work to do?”

 

“I run a foundation and I’m independently wealthy.” Harry smiled. “I don’t necessarily ‘do work’ as you eloquently described.”

 

“So, you’re planning on sitting here and watching me work all day.”

 

“You’re not going into the office, darling?” Harry said snidely.

 

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been forbidden from the office for the next three days. Cristler was very direct about his instructions.”

 

“Really? What did he say?”

 

Draco looked up from his paperwork and leveled his gaze at Harry. “He told me to take a few days and enjoy my new husband.”

 

Harry flushed scarlet. “You know what he meant by that.”

 

“I have a feeling.” Draco smirked, returning once again to his files. “Cristler is a strict man but he can be delightfully crude.”

 

Harry tipped his head slightly. “So, you’re just going to work the entire time? You’re not going to follow his advice and relax with your new husband?”

 

“Are you offering?”

 

“Well…” Harry twisted slightly in the chair. “I… er…”

 

“I really should say thank you for breakfast this morning.” Draco rose from his desk.

 

“For breakfast?” Harry slumped slightly in the chair. “That was a thank you for helping me yesterday...”

 

Draco walked toward Harry, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Perhaps a thank you for letting the entire Wizarding World think you’re my bride.” He knelt in between the brunette’s legs. “I’m sure it’s all people are talking about.”

 

Harry shivered. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

 

The blonde leaned forward, sliding his hands beneath Harry t-shirt. “After the photos from the party run in the _Prophet_ , they will see the strong Destroyer of the Dark Lord as a sweet-faced bride of a former Death Eater’s son.” He exposed a tan strip of Harry’s stomach. “It’s honestly a little bit of a turn on.”

 

“It… er… It is?” Harry breathed.

 

Draco nodded. “Oh yes. It makes me just want to…” He licked a stripe up Harry’s stomach. “Eat you up.”

 

Harry quivered. “Oh r-really?”

 

“Mmhmm.” The blonde murmured against his stomach. “Your skin looks like caramel. It looks very tasty.”

 

“Draco…” Harry shuddered.

 

Draco leaned back and smirked. “You’re definitely not a bossy bottom.”

 

“Oh, shut it!” Harry glowered, shoving a pillow in Draco’s face.

 

The blonde laughed. “Oh, come now, _darling_. I was only teasing.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes and stalked out of the room. “I’ll leave you to your work, _darling_.”

 

“Harry…” Draco called, following him back to sitting room. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

The brunette frowned. “I’m not upset.”

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you frowning?”

 

“I’m not frowning.” Harry turned down the hallway.

 

Draco chased him down till he stood outside the door to his bedroom. “Harry…”

 

“Draco…” Harry mocked and then slammed the door shut in his face.

 

The blonde wizard rolled his eyes. “Petulant child…”

 

            He stalked back down the hallway, across the siting room, slamming the door of his office behind him. Clenching his fists, he sat back down at his desk and angrily began shuffling through his files. Potter seemed insufferable, a constant game of hot-and-cold. He had to admit that he enjoyed the demure version of the Savior as much as the feisty one. Draco sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He could have it infinitely worse if he had followed through with his Grandfather’s selection. He had been slightly aware that he had been courting a betrothal to the Greengrasses, Astoria to be most accurate. She fit the general Malfoy demographic. Petite, blonde and beautiful with dangerously icy intelligence not unlike his mother. Harry Potter could not be more opposite than what his Grandfather designed for him. The phone on his desk rang loudly, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“What?” Draco snapped.

 

“Well, hello to you, sunshine.” Pansy replied.

 

“Pans, I’m sorry…” Draco sighed. “Why are you calling?”

 

“To say that you were right,” Pansy quipped. “I make the impossible possible.”

 

Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What?”

 

“You asked me to dig up the dirt on your hubby’s former dalliances.” Pansy retorted. “For a short list, the information was difficult to find.”

 

“You’ve found the information already?” He was shocked, it had barely been a day.

 

“Yes, apparently your impossible information wasn’t so impossible. Though,” Pansy replied. “It’s an extremely short list. Like makes you look like a degenerate-hussy-short.”

 

“Pansy…”

 

“Yes, yes…” Pansy capitulated. “Anyway, your beautiful bride has been linked to exactly four people. Ginevra Weasley, which the entirety of the Wizarding World knows how that ended.”

 

Draco hummed in agreement. “And the others?”

 

“Check your top drawer.”

 

Draco pulled open the top drawer of his desk to find a small dossier. “How?”

 

“Don’t ask questions you will never get the answer to.” Pansy said evenly.

 

“Fine…” Draco huffed, flipping open the dossier.

 

“First up is a lovely Muggle named Hals Stewart. Potter’s first foray into dating someone of the same sex. Harmless and mind-numbingly boring.” Draco could practically hear Pansy roll her eyes. “Then Justin Finch-Fletchley. Again, harmless. Just a simple fling that maybe lasted six weeks. The last, before you, is by far the most interesting. He and Harry were together for almost two years before they called it quits. A Mister Reed N. Praetor, ultra-successful Gringotts investment banker. If I wasn’t positive that you were an only child, I would’ve said he was your illegitimate brother.”

 

            Draco stared down at the small photo of Praetor that stared unflinchingly back at him. He had an aristocratic face, with high cheekbones and deep blue eyes. His hair was a sunny blonde color that was perfectly parted and slicked back away from his face. His robes were expertly tailored, most certainly custom and outrageously expensive. Pansy had been right about them being similar. Both incredibly driven and escaping shadowy family pasts. Reed Praetor, on paper, was the perfect man.

 

“I suppose you’re wondering why they aren’t still together.” Pansy interjected.

 

“His loss is my gain, Pans.”

 

She chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, but Harry walked out on Mister Money Banks.” Pansy affirmed. “Apparently, all signs pointed toward engagement until one day, the pretty little Savior packs his belongings and moves into a cozy little cottage in Milton Keynes.”

 

Draco leaned back in his chair. “Really…”

 

“Yes, but that was almost two years ago. Right around the time he would have bumped into you.” Pansy said slyly.

 

“Yes, that’s about right.” Draco replied. “Send me your travel details, Pans. You’ve earned your trip.”

 

“You’re still not going to tell me how you won over Wonder Boy?”

 

“Good day, Pansy.” He hung up the phone.

 

            He stared down at Praetor’s dossier, running a finger down the list of his accomplishments.  Top of his class at the London Institute of Banking and Finance, a Muggle university. Finished in the top five of the Dumbledore’s Army Triathlon. Draco raised an eyebrow, Mister Reed N. Praetor was co-chief benefactor of the Lilly Foundation. The smug bastard had his fingers in Harry’s foundation. He closed the folder and tucked it back in the top drawer, warding it close. He didn’t need the Gryffindor finding out he had dug up information on his past. Turning back to the files on desk, he set about working through his open cases.  

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.nine.

 

 

            Draco ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with the information that had been laid on his desk. His current case was falling apart and Cristler was already on his back about it. He hadn’t expected his witness to recant their statement. He sighed, staring at the clock. It was already past seven and he needed to send an owl to Harry saying he’d be late again. He leaned back in his chair, pulling a spare piece of parchment from a drawer in his desk when his office door opened.

 

“Hey…”

 

Draco looked up to find Harry in his doorway. “What are you doing here?”

 

“It’s after seven and I hadn’t gotten an owl from you.” Harry said quietly. “So, I… er… I brought you dinner.” He deposited a plastic bag on his desk.

 

“Oh, thank you.” Draco reached into the bag. “You didn’t have to do that.”

 

“It’s nothing special, just Chinese takeaway.” He plopped down in the seat opposite Draco’s desk. “And, well… I just haven’t seen you in a while.”

 

“I know, this case has been crazy…” A slow smile creeped across his face. “Did you just admit to missing me?”

 

“I… well… er…” Harry shifted in his seat. “The flat is very nice but I never realized how large it was until I was alone. A lot.”

 

Draco rose and stepped around his desk. “You miss me?”

 

“That flat is very big and I… er…” Harry blushed as Draco stepped closer to him.

 

“You miss me.” Draco smirked.

 

“I just… it’s a very big place.” Harry’s blush deepened. “I don’t like being alone in big spaces.”

 

Draco pulled Harry into his arms. “You miss me.”

 

“Draco…” Harry groaned and squirmed in Draco’s arms.

 

“You miss me. _You_ miss _me_.” Draco cooed in Harry’s ear. “My little husband misses me.”

 

“Malfoy.” A voice barked.

 

Draco and Harry split apart quickly. “Mister Cristler.”

 

Cristler looked up from his file folder, stared at the two of them over his glasses. A small smile crept across his face. “Go home, Mister Malfoy.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir?” Draco’s eyebrows threatened to disappear into this hairline.

 

“Take your takeaway and husband home.” The elder solicitor instructed. “I’m sure that Mogin and myself can handle a simple recanting.”

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, sir?”

 

“Yes, I’m positive. Have a good evening, Mister Malfoy.” Cristler turned on his heel, waving him out. “Feel free to come in late tomorrow.”

 

Draco’s mouth dropped open as a smirk crept across Harry’s face. “Your boss is a secret pervert.”

 

“Quite honestly, he’s not all that secret about it.” Draco replied.

 

Harry grabbed the takeaway from Draco’s desk. “Shall we?”

 

“Lead the way, darling.”

 

 

.::.::.::.::.::.::.

 

 

 

“You really outdid yourself, Potter.” Draco said, scooping lo mien onto his plate. “All of my favorites are here. How did you even know?”

 

“We’ve been together for some time now.” Harry replied, spearing a broccoli floret. “Did you ever think perhaps I know you that well?”

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been together for three months and we’ve maybe spent three weeks alone with each other. I’d be highly impressed if you truly knew me that well.”

 

“Highly impressed?” Harry snorted.

 

Draco reached across the table, grabbing Harry’s hand. “Yes, _highly_ …”

 

Harry flushed scarlet. “Oh… er…”

 

The fireplace roared to life and Pansy stepped out, shaking the soot from her cloak. “Good evening, boys.”

 

“How did she—”

 

Draco sighed. “She’s keyed into the wards. I should probably think about changing that.”

 

Harry nodded solemnly. “I think that would be wise.”

 

“Pansy, love, what are you doing here?”

 

She plopped down onto the sofa. “I came to pop in on my favorite lovebirds. See how married life is treating you both.”

 

“Quite well, thank you.” Draco replied, sitting back in his chair. “Why are you really here?”

 

Pansy rolled her eyes, hanging over the back of the sofa. “Well it’s Thursday and you’re home from work at a decent hour.”

 

“Oh, Merlin…” Draco put his head in hands. “Not Thursday. I’m too old and too busy for Thursday.”

 

Harry looked confused. “What’s Thursday?”

 

“Don’t.” Draco said sharply.

 

Pansy smiled mischievously. “Thursday is the night Draco, Blaise, and myself would go out and get gloriously drunk. Dance on tables. Find someone attractive and take them home.” She flopped down on the sofa. “Do unspeakably inappropriate things to them. Such wonderful times, until blondie pants decided to get a real job.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes and Harry frowned. “I think what Draco does is very noble.”

 

Pansy in turn rolled her eyes. “You would, Gryffindork.” She popped her head over the sofa. “C’mon Draco… Bring the little lion with you. Merlin knows he could use a little mindless debauchery.”

 

“Pans, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”  

 

Harry shrugged. “Why not? Could be fun.” He rose from the table and disappeared into the smaller bedroom. “What do I wear?”

 

“Something tight and revealing!” Pansy called.

 

Draco glowered. “Stop it, Pans, we’re not going.”

 

“Is there some reason you two have separate bedrooms?” Pansy asked innocently.

 

“His clothes are in there if you must know.” Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not like I have the most accommodating wardrobe.”

 

“This is very true.” Pansy fidgeted with her rings. “Oh my…”

 

“Is this okay?” Harry asked, returning to the living room wearing a deep navy button-down and a pair of tight distressed medium wash jeans that hugged him in all the right places.

 

Pansy walked briskly over to the brunette, circled him and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. “That’ll do, Potter. That will do.”

 

Draco stared dumbly at his husband. “You had those in your closet?”

 

“Yes.” Harry said flatly.

 

“Why haven’t I seen this before?” Draco gestured to the outfit.

 

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps if you didn’t work so much, you could see more of my wardrobe than my pajamas.”

 

Pansy clucked her tongue. “Ouch…”

 

“Fine, fine! We’ll go out and get drunk and dance.” Draco threw up his hands in defeat.

 

“Hooray…” Harry deadpanned.

 

Pansy pointed down the hallway. “Now go put on something equally sexy!”

 

 

.::.::.::.::.::.::.

 

 

            Pansy tugged Harry through the club, Blaise and Draco trailing close behind. She pushed the Gryffindor into a stool near the bar and snapped at the barman. She ordered something called a Snake Bite, practically poured the drink down Harry’s throat, giggling madly.

 

“Pansy, what are you doing?” Draco sighed.

 

“Witnessing something I have dreamed of witnessing for _years_.” Pansy smiled. “Four shots of your finest tequila, barman!” The man nodded and pulled a bottle from the top shelf.

 

 Harry scowled. “Why does everyone want to watch me get drunk?”

 

“Because you are the ultimate Light Wizard.” Blaise said offhandedly. “Perfectly laced up and we, as Slytherins, want to pull the string and watch your undoing.”

 

“Oh…” Harry breathed, staring down at the shot glasses. “Cheers, then.”

 

            The three Slytherins stared in awe as Potter downed all four shots of tequila. He shivered slightly, the alcohol starting to seep into his system. Harry then snapped at the barman. The Gryffindor smiled broadly at the man. He flushed deeply in return at the attention.

 

“What can I get you, Mister Potter?”

 

Harry placed his chin on the top of his hands. “Would you be so kind and get us four more shots of tequila?”

 

“Of course, sir.” The barman scrambled to grab four new shot glasses and the bottle of tequila.

 

“Can you be a dear and leave the bottle?”

 

The barman look around nervously. “It’s not permitted, sir.”

 

Harry turned up the wattage on his smile. “But you can for me, can’t you?”

 

“I… um…”

 

Draco curled an arm around “We don’t want to get the man in trouble, darling.”

 

Harry pressed a finger to Draco’s lips. “Hush, _darling_ … Let me take care of this.”

 

Draco watched as Harry continued to shamelessly flirt with the bartender until the man left the bottle. Feeling victorious, Harry took a pull directly from the bottle.

 

Pansy leaned on Draco’s shoulder. “Who is this man and what has he done with your husband?”

 

“I’m not sure, but I’m blaming you for this recklessness.” Draco growled. “Perhaps you should slow down, darling.” He took the bottle from Harry’s hands.

 

“Maybe you should catch up.” Harry reached for the bottle.

 

Draco lifted the bottle out of Harry’s reach. “Some of us have to work in the morning.”

 

Harry molded his body to Draco’s. “But you don’t have be in first thing. Cristler said you could come in late.” He rolled his hips. “Come on, live a little, _darling_.”

 

            Draco looked over Harry’s head to find Pansy and Blaise looking wonderfully scandalized. He looked down at Harry. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the alcohol-induced blush coloring his cheeks. The flirtatious smirk that played across his lips, the seductive look in his bright green eyes. Draco leaned back from Harry, taking two large swigs from the tequila bottle.

 

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband?” He leaned in, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist.

 

Harry smiled darkly. “Do you want to know a fun fact about me?”

 

“Always…” Draco breathed into Harry’s ear, leaning back to take another swig of tequila.

 

“The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin.” Harry pulled the bottle to his lips, taking a pull.

 

Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

 

Harry set the bottle on the table. “Can you imagine me as a Slytherin?”

 

Draco was treated to the mental image of Harry in a Slytherin uniform, spread out across one of the dormitory beds, a look of wanton need playing across his elfin features. “Oh, I can imagine.”

 

The song changed and Harry lit up like a Christmas tree. “Dance with me?”

 

            Draco watched as Harry made his way towards the dance floor. He watched as the brunette gyrated to the beat. Harry crooked a finger at the blonde, wiggling his hips. He watched as the brunette rolled his body to the beat. Running his tongue along his top lip, he moved his body in the same pattern as Harry’s. They moved together, Draco wrapping his arms around Harry’s lithe body, pressing their foreheads together. They sway to the thudding beat, bodies undulating against one another. Draco smirked, bringing his hand to rest on Harry’s cheek. The brunette tipped his head up, nipping at Draco’s lips.

 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Draco said huskily.

 

Harry smiled, pressing ever closer. “Absolutely.”


	10. Chapter Ten

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.ten.

 

 

 

            Draco and Harry tumbled through their Floo, landing heavily on the living room floor. Harry snickered drunkenly, shoving his hands beneath Draco’s t-shirt while the Slytherin undid the buttons of his shirt. The blonde groaned as he ran his blunt nails down his abdomen. Draco flipped them so he lay between Harry’s legs. Leaning back, he made quick work of Harry’s button fly and yanked the jeans off his slim hips, revealing the brunette had gone commando.

 

“Goddamnit, you look delicious.” Draco breathed.

 

Harry reached up, lifting his hips slightly. “Then you better eat me.”

 

            Draco licked and nipped his way from Harry’s neck down to the sharp curve of his hipbone. He sucked hard in the space where Harry’s leg met his hip, causing the brunette to flick his hips forward. His cock bounced against his stomach, hard as steel. Draco hovered over it, staring up at Harry. His grey-blue eyes clouded with lust as he waited for permission. Harry lifted his hips to meet Draco’s lip, the blonde licking a stripe from the hilt to tip. Harry shivered violently as Draco swallowed him whole.

 

“God… Fuck… Don’t stop… Fuckity fuck…” Harry panted.

 

            Harry’s words spurred him on, fellating the brunette slowly, he pressed a finger gently against his entrance. Harry tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair as he felt himself being breached. He moaned deeply, feeling as Draco wordlessly performed a preparation spell.

 

“We shouldn’t do this here.” Draco pulled the two of them into a sitting position, pressing kisses along Harry’s collarbone.

 

“Hmm…” Harry moaned, snaking his arms around Draco’s neck. “Because Pansy could come in at any moment?”

 

Draco chuckled. “That and I highly doubt that you would enjoy having carpet burn tomorrow. I know I wouldn’t.”

 

“No, I would not.” Harry smiled, dotting kisses along Draco’s chin. “Take me to bed, darling.”

 

            Draco stood, pulling the brunette up with him. Harry faltered, his inebriated state making him unsteady on his feet as he made his way down the hallway. He stumbled backward into the wall, tugging Draco with him. He snickered, curling his arms around the blonde’s neck, carding his fingers into his hair. Harry molded his body to Draco’s, grinding his hips. Draco growled, lifting Harry so that his legs came around his waist.

 

“If you keep this up, we’ll never make it to the bed.” Draco said, voice thick with lust.

 

Harry moaned, rolling his hips again. “Maybe I don’t want to make it to the bed.”

 

Draco pinned Harry more forcefully to the wall. “I’ll do it, Potter. I’ll take you right here in this hallway.”

 

“Promise?”

 

            Draco pulled the away from the wall and walked quickly down the hallway. Harry giggled drunkenly as he tossed him onto the bed. Draco shucked his shirt and shed his trousers. Harry played languidly with himself, hand sliding up and down his cock as he watched Draco undress.

 

“You’re a terrible fucking tease, Potter.” Draco ground out.

 

Harry chuckled. “Are you going to do something about it, Mister Malfoy?”

 

Draco yanked Harry to the edge of the bed. “ _Praesemino_ …”

 

Harry gasped, feeling himself be stretched once again by the magic. “Another one?”

 

“Oh, darling…” Draco buried himself to the hilt within Harry. “You’re going to need it.”

 

            Draco started slow, pulling out almost completely and driving himself deeply back in. He watched as the writhing brunette beneath him came undone. Harry rolled his hips in time with Draco’s thrusts, hooking his leg to give the blonde better access. Draco took it, curling his hands around Harry’s hips.

 

“Harder… Fuck… Harder…” Harry panted.

 

Draco snapped his hips. “Like that.”

 

Harry groaned, clawing the sheets. “Yes, d-don’t stop… P-please don’t s-stop…”

 

            Draco smirked, continuing to thrust sharply into Harry. His hand curled tightly around Harry’s left hip. Vulgar epithets fell like rain from Harry’s mouth, demanding Draco drive harder, to go deeper. The blonde dutifully obliged, letting go of Harry’s hip to curl it underneath his shoulder. He snapped his hips, driving himself deeper in Harry. Draco set a punishing pace, forcing the brunette to brace himself against the headboard.

 

“Drake…” Harry curled his fingers around the bars of the headboard. “I can’t… I-I’m going… Uhn…”

 

            Draco could feel his orgasm impending, tight hot coil in the pit of his stomach threatening to release. Harry soon came undone beneath, arching off the bed, hands clawing up Draco’s back. The feeling of Harry’s hands on his back did him in. Draco came, burying himself as deep as he could inside the brunette. Spent and exhausted, they fell into a deep sleep.

 

 

**.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.**

 

 

             Draco awoke the next to find himself alone, the sounds of a shower running in the distance. He sat up slowly, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat. Slipping out of bed, he made his way to his en suite bathroom and ripped open his medicine cabinet. After downing a Hangover Elixir, he splashed his face with cool water. Draco stared at his reflection, the color returning to his cheeks as the potion worked its magic. Sighing, he stepped into the shower, washing quickly. He exited his bathroom and dressed quickly in solicitor’s robes.

 

            He stepped out into the hallway, still hearing the shower running in the opposite room. Draco crossed into the opposite room, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. He could swear beneath the sounds of the water were the sounds of weeping.

 

“Harry? Are you alright?”

 

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m fine… I’m just… I think I’m hungover.”

 

Draco chuckled. “I have Hangover Elixir in my medicine cabinet, if you like.”

 

“No, I’ll be fine.” Harry replied hoarsely. “An extremely long hot shower usually does the trick.”

 

“Well, if you need it, it’s available to you.” Draco replied, leaning against the door. “Are you sure you’re alright? I know I was a bit… over enthusiastic… last night.”

 

Harry chuckled slightly. “I asked for it.”

 

Draco sighed. “I’m off, I’ll owl if I’ll be late.”

 

“I’ll expect your owl than…”

 

Draco rolled his eyes, lifting himself off the doorframe. “I’ll see you later.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**In the Cold Light of the Morning**

_by Ellena McKelles_

.eleven.

 

 

 

            Harry heard the sharp pop of Apparition, signaling Draco had left for the office. He slumped against shower wall, hiccoughing and wrapping his arms around his knees. He stared down between his legs. Deep bruises forming on them and his hip. His head thudded against the bathroom wall. He should be upset, but he had asked for Draco to take him so roughly. He sighed, standing slowly and washing his body robotically. Exiting the shower, he wrapped his body with the plush towel and collapsed onto his bed.

 

            Staring up at the canopy of the impressive queen-sized four-poster, his thoughts drifting back to the previous night. Watching Draco dance in a crowd of people had been an intense turn on. The blonde knew how to move his body in a way that should be illegal. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he slid slowly off the and stalked to his wardrobe. Pulling out a t-shirt and a well-worn pair of sweatpants, he dressed quickly and then headed to the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, he reached to take down a kettle and cup for tea when there was a sharp knock at the door. Moving quickly from the kitchen, he pulled open the door to find a stern-faced Hermione.

 

“Oh hello, Herm—”

 

“Seriously, Harry James Potter, what are you thinking?” She smacked him in the chest with a folded copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , pushing her way into the flat. “Just what were you thinking?”

 

“Good morning to you too.” Harry replied, shutting the door.

 

“I mean, I had understood that Malfoy is a reformed person, but seriously,” She snapped open the folded paper. The main image on the front page was Harry and Draco molded against one another. “what were the two of you thinking? Harry, you run a foundation that helps those in abusive situations and Draco is Deputy Head Solicitor to the Wizengamot.”

 

Harry frowned. “Hermione, please, I’m in no mood to argue with you this morn—”

 

“Harry, _you_ promised you’d tone down the drinking.” Hermione crossed her arms angrily. “But there you were gulping down flutes of champagne at your wedding celebration. I heard from Templeton, who was at Lair last night, that you swindled the bartender into giving you a bottle of tequila. _A whole bottle of tequila_. Not to mention the Snake Bites Parkinson was pouring down your throat…”

 

“’Mione, I assume that you are trying to make a point that Draco’s friends are a bad influence,” Harry snapped, walking back into the kitchen. “but I am an adult. Or have you forgotten?”

 

“I am well aware that you are an adult, Harry.” Hermione followed after him. “You promised you’d cut back on the drinking. I’ve watched you jump from one serious relationship to a marriage with a man I believed that you one-hundred percent hated—”

 

“Hate is a very strong word…” Harry murmured, reaching up into the cupboard.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Then sincerely disliked…” She watched as Harry reached up, noticing the large bruise on his hip. “Harry… That bruise…”

 

He pulled his shirt back down and sighed. “It’s nothing… We were just a bit overenthusiastic last night.”

 

“The last time you said it was nothing, it turned out to be a big something.” Hermione’s expression softened. “Are you sure he’s not—”

 

“It’s really nothing. We were just drunk, that’s all.” Harry replied. “I promise.”

 

“You swear?”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Fine…” Hermione conceded. “Just keep the grinding in public to a minimum. You are the face of the Lilly Foundation.” Harry opened his mouth to interject, Hermione held up a hand. “I know, I know… But it would be pertinent for you to just play the good, married wizard who does not gallivant across London drunkenly.”

 

“Duly noted.”

 

“I’m sorry… I just worry about you.”

 

“I know, you’re worse than Molly sometimes.”

 

Hermione slapped him on the arm with the paper. “Shut it.”

 

“You want to stay for a cup a tea?”

 

She smiled. “Always.”

 

 

 

**.::.::.::.::.::.**

 

 

 

“Malfoy!”

 

Draco looked up from his file. “Ms. Granger, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

 

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk.”

 

He stared down at his pocket watch. “I have a little time between cases. What do you need?”

 

“I’m sure you saw the _Prophet_ this morning…”

 

“Yes, and I’ve already been thoroughly hazed for it.” Draco snapped his folder close. “Look, Granger, I have a full docket today—”

 

“I’m not here to chastise you for it, but I saw Harry this morning and I noticed that he had some bruises.”

 

“Bruises?”

 

“You didn’t see them?”

 

“No, he was in the shower when I left for the office.”

 

“I see…” Hermione pulled the two of them into an alcove. “He hasn’t told you anything a Reed, has he?”

 

“About Praetor? No, he hasn’t.” Draco replied. “I’m only aware that they dated for a significant length of time.”

 

“I never liked him.” Hermione said quietly. “He reminded me of you. Smug, thought he owned the world…”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you think so highly of me, Granger.”

 

“Anyway,” She continued. “I always thought something was off. Harry started to change. He’s always been somewhat quiet, not a fan of being alone in large spaces, but he became… _meek_. He couldn’t stand to hear a dirty joke. He started drinking more.” Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. “And then I started to see the bruises.”

 

“You think Praetor hit him?”

 

Hermione shook her head. “No, they weren’t normal bruises. Around his wrists, ankles, handprint marks on his hips. It wasn’t until I saw the band bruise around his neck, that I forced him to leave. I wrote the note. The cottage he stayed in belonged to my parents.”

 

Draco swallowed thickly. “You think Praetor sexually abused him?”

 

“I don’t know…” She leveled a gaze at the blonde. “Have you had sex with Harry when he’s sober?”

 

“I…” Draco swallowed again, unable to finish.

 

Hermione sighed. “I know I’ve picked the worst possible time to tell you—”

 

“I needed to know.” Draco said quickly. Cristler was motioning for him. “Thank you. I have to go.”

 

“Promise me that you’ll take care of him.”

 

“Malfoy!” Cristler barked.

 

Draco placed a quick had on Hermione’s shoulder. “I will.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ALIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!! And back! I know, I know... I'm working on everything. I needed to take a step away from my fanfiction as I've been currently working on something original (for once in my entire life) and I've gotten into a good chunk of it. I may or may not post out the first draft of my original work, but I've hit a snag of writer's block with it and have slunk back into writing Drarry.
> 
> But seriously... Enjoy!

**In the Cold Light of the Morning  
** _by Ellena McKelles_

. twelve.

 

 

 

            It was almost nine o’clock before Draco dragged him weary body over the threshold of his flat. It was dark, save for a small light on in his kitchen. He smiled slightly, seeing the covered plate on the table. He pulled the wrapping off to find it still hot. A simple dinner of chicken curry and rice, one of Harry’s specialties. Taking the plate and tucking his attaché case beneath his arms, he made his way towards his office, only to stop next to the sofa. Harry lay asleep on it, a tangled mess of limbs. Draco frowned, noticing the large bruise on his hip. He sat down on the coffee table, staring at the purple mark decorating Harry’s hip. His fingers ghosted over it lightly. Harry stirred, rolling over on his stomach, stretching like a cat.

 

“You’re home.” He said sleepily.

 

“Just got in.” Draco lifted the plate. “Thank you for dinner.”

 

“Of course.” Harry smiled. “Sorry it’s just curry.”

 

Draco dug the spoon into the dish. “Oh, it’s just fine. Besides, something simple is nice one in a while.”

 

“I’m glad.” Harry yawned.

 

Draco munched through a few bites. “That bruise looks like it hurts.”

 

Harry yanked down his shirt. “It’s fine…”

 

“Are you sure? I have cream in my medicine cabinet.” Draco replied, swirling the curry into the rice in his plate.

 

Harry shook his head, sitting up. “No, really it’s fine.”

 

Draco lifted the shirt again. “I did this…”

 

“Draco…”

 

“I did this to you.” He set the plate down on the table. “I’ve hurt you.”

 

“No, no… Draco, you haven’t hurt me.”

 

The blonde pressed lightly against the bruise, causing Harry to flinch. “Yes, I have.”

 

“It wasn’t intentional, we were both drunk.” Harry replied, pulled his shirt more firmly over the bruise. “We just got a little out of hand. I mean I practically asked for it…”

 

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Harry, you know… It’s not my intention to treat you this way.”

 

“I know…” Harry looked down at his hands.

 

“I’m serious, Potter.” Draco replied. “I know we are together do to some… _unusual_ circumstances, but I would never wish you any ill will. I would never abuse you.”

 

“Hermione talked to you…” Harry slumped against the sofa.

 

“She’s concerned about you.” Draco said, his tone touched with worry. “After doing a little digging myself, I am too.”

 

“You looked into me?” Harry asked defensively.

 

“You forget what I do for a living. Accessing records is in my job description.” Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “And fourteen drunken disorderly citations in the last two years is a bit excessive. Had I known you had an issue with alcohol, I wouldn’t have let Pansy talk us into going out.”

 

“I do not have an issue with alcohol.” Harry replied icily.

 

“Fourteen citations say otherwise.” The blonde pinched the space between his brows. “You’ve experienced something traumatic on more than one occasion. You have nightmares – do not deny they don’t exist because I can hear you at night. You isolate yourself, yet you don’t want to be alone. The hyper-sexuality while intoxicated—”

 

Harry stood abruptly. “I’m not one of your _victims_ who needs to be coddled!” He began down the hallway. “I am a grown man. And a wizard at that!”

 

“Whatever Praetor did or didn’t do, you know… You know you can tell me.”

 

Harry froze, breath coming in pants. “She told you about Reed?”

 

“She saw your bruise this morning… Granger may have jumped to conclusions, but she’s not stupid. I’ve seen a photo of Praetor, we’re not dissimilar looking men with the similar ugly backgrounds. She saw the bruise, she made her assumptions based on past situations. Harry, if he—”

 

“He didn’t.” Harry stood straight, shoulders squared. “He didn’t. I don’t even know why Hermione thought to bring it up.”

 

“Okay, fine...” Draco stood, picking up the plate and his attaché case. “I just want you to know that I would never hurt you like that on purpose. Intoxicated or not. As much as you think that I don’t care about you, I am concerned for your personal wellbeing.” He strode from the living room, the door to his office snapping shut.

 

            Flopping down at his desk, he set to work on the files he’d brought home from the office.  He knew that Harry had lied. That what Hermione had disclosed to him made perfect sense. Why they had ended their relationship so suddenly. Why Harry never spoke of his previous relationships. Draco knew the situation all too well. Partners of powerful people too afraid to leave their situation for fear of the loss of the comfortable life that had become accustom to. A pretty outside with an absolutely toxic center they only showed behind closed doors. Draco slumped in his seat. He should have known better than to confront Harry directly about the situation. It had never worked with nervous plaintiffs he dealt with on what seemed like a weekly basis.

 

            Sitting back up in his chair, he began organizing his files for his cases in the morning, intermittedly shoveling curry into his mouth. It was almost half past midnight when he finally finished. He stacked the completed case files into his case and then strode back into the kitchen to deposit the dirty plate into the sink. Wearily, he trudged down the hallway to his bedroom, pausing to press a hand to the door to the guest bedroom. He felt like an idiot, but he shouldn’t push his apology. Carding a hand through his hair, he turned away and headed down the hallway to his own bedroom. There, curled into a small ball on the side nearest the door, lay Harry. The duvet was a mess, obvious evidence that Harry had been sleeping fitfully.

 

“Merlin…” Draco sighed.

 

            The blonde set about to readying himself for bed as quickly and quietly as possible. Harry moaned, brows furrowing. Draco frowned, taking in the fact that the dark-haired wizard was having yet another nightmare. He slid under the duvet next him and Harry twinged again, this time a breathy ‘ _no_ ’ falling from his lips.  Biting his lip, Draco slid closer to Harry. The smaller wizard turned into him, curling a thin hand into Draco’s t-shirt. Draco wrapped his arm around him loosely and watched as a Harry relaxed into the embrace. He sighed, finally coming to terms with the fact that he was most definitely falling in love with Harry James Potter.

 

“Fuck…”  Draco breathed, nuzzling his nose into Harry’s thick black hair. “Fucking fuck…”

 

 

 

 


End file.
